Only One Girl
by Onedayinneverland
Summary: [One-shot, BoruSara] Boruto and Sarada discuss complicated relationships.


(One-shot) Boruto and Sarada discuss complicated relationships.

 **Only One Girl**

"What is your dream?" Boruto asked. He had been sitting with Sarada in the grass next to the lake where they had earlier been practicing. Mitsuki had been out for the day, planning to celebrate his 16th birthday with his dad - mom? Parent.

Sarada stared at Boruto as if he had grown an extra head, "To be the Hokage. How can you not know this by now?"

Boruto smiled, "Your personal dream." He seemed hesitant for a second, "You know, family and stuff."

"Family and stuff," She imitated him with a silly grin, "You're so eloquent."

As Boruto became silent, Sarada suspect there was more to this question than meets the eye. She shrugged, "I guess a family. Can't afford to be the last Uchiha, my dad would not be impressed."

"I think your dad really wouldn't be bothered." In fact, he would prefer it. Boruto vividly remembered the many times he dared to breath too close to Sarada and how that resulted in a less that pleasant experience with Sasuke's powers. He guessed that the older Uchiha would be his happiest if Sarada decided to become a nun and dedicate her life to celibacy.

"What is _your_ dream?" the dark haired girl smirked, "I guess assuming by your vast number of ex girlfriends you want to get married and divorced a few times before your fifties."

Boruto gasped in mock outrage, "Excuse you, I don't plan to get married at all."

"Really, you?"

He nodded, "I get bored too easily."

The girl huffed, "You don't say."

"But really, no one?" She looked incredulous, dramatically adding "Not one girl made you think, 'I want to leave everything, move with you to the other side of the world so we can then live in peace and have football team of babies'?"

Boruto laughed, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture that Sarada has seen him do a thousand times before when he is nervous.

"Well, one has."

"One?" Sarada smiled slyly, "That's an incredibly low statistic, Uzumaki."

"It's complicated."

"Isn't it always."

Boruto laid himself back on the grass and stayed silent for a few moments, "Do you think that?"

"Hm?" She asked, looking back at him.

"Do you think it's always complicated?" Boruto was not looking at her; he studied the clouds attentively to give himself some comfort.

The blond then hesitantly looked at Sarada as she lied herself next to him, "How do you convince someone to look past that?"

"Well, I guess she already knows you love her from your dating time and just the way you are when you are with her."

"What if she doesn't?"

"Then I guess you should tell her that you love her and if she loves you back that should be enough." She thought back to his previous question, "Every relationship is complicated." She spoke with a head shake, "Not our dad's level of complicated but you know, regular complicated."

"So do you think our relationship is complicated?"

"You don't?"

He shrugged. Sarada seemed to consider her response for a second, "I like to think that we are very good friends but then again I have thought more times about killing you than what birthday gift to get you so," She paused, "Yeah, it's complicated."

Boruto clasped a hand over his heart dramatically, "That hurt, can't believe you half-hate me after all the times I shared food with you."

Sarada rolled her eyes, "You know very well that I can't hate you."

The blond boy blinked at her, "And why is that, Sarada? It can't just be because I know where you live and could kill you in your sleep can it?"

Sarada decided to reward him with the same sarcasm, "No, it's because you're a carbon copy of your father and you know how much I love that man." Boruto looked unimpressed.

The Uchiha laughed wholeheartedly, adding "Because I know under that hard head of yours you have a truly kind heart that would do anything for anyone."

"And you know," She added with a wink and a poke at his stomach, "The washboard abs."

"Truth comes out, you only like me for my body."

Sarada tried to hide her light blush with a comeback, "Not true, you have awesome powers and I also heard you have a lot of money."

They laughed together. The day was becoming darker and Boruto felt he already got everything he could earn from that conversation.

He smiled at his friend as he stood, "Right, the sun is setting and I've been offended enough now." Sarada sat herself up, smiling back.

"My lady," he offered his hand. The dark haired girl took it and stood as Boruto left, walking with his hands behind his head.

Sarada turned to him and called out, "So how's your future wife's situation working out?"

"What situation?" He called back, already at the distance.

"That good, huh?" She shouted back.

"Oh, fantastic. Apparently I'm a very important friend." He paused, smiling a bit sadly while she stared in stunned surprise, "But hey, at least I got a long list of compliments."

He turned away to continue walking and immediately Sarada appeared in front of him, "What did you say?"

Boruto stopped; his arms fell to his sides as his face turned a curious shade of pink, "Please don't make me repeat it, I don't even know where the courage to tell you came from in the first place." He was looking everywhere but at Sarada, who was staring directly up at him.

"You should follow my advice." Sarada stated simply. Boruto's mind was racing; he thought about how it would be now or never. How he would never get this chance again if he messed everything up and said he was only kidding. Now was the time for him to be able to say what he realized after many failed relationships and if he let Sarada down now he would never forgive himself.

Boruto gathered up all his courage to look her in the eye, "I love you." He paused, "And I know I'm not perfect. I'm demanding and cocky and really annoying and I know you are so much better than me in every way but I-" His rushed words came to a sudden halt as her hand covered is mouth,

"As I said, I love you is enough if she loves you too."

The End


End file.
